Eroica
by absolutefaith
Summary: [Arithmancy Class] 'When your fingers touch the keys, you feel like you can do anything. And for a child, that's the best feeling in the world.'
_This piece was written for the Arithmancy Class. You guys should check the forum. The link is in my bio._

 _ **WC** **:**_ _1.256_

 _ **Assignment #8:** The Music in Me  
_

 _"Eroica" is a song written by Bethoveen, who dedicated it first to Bonaparte. And, according to Wikipedia, when he discovered that Bonaparte had_ _declared himself Emperor, he picked up the paper, seized the top of the title-page, tore it in half and threw it on the floor. Fitting, isn't it?_

 _I don't own Harry Potter *sighs*_

* * *

As you're growing up, you'd always be compared with your older brother. He is the first born of this generation, since your Aunt Druella had girls, only.

He's born only two years before you and yet you want to be just like him. If he ate his vegetables, you'd eat yours; if he decided to play quidditch, you'd play too. For you, he's the best brother that exists.

(That's why you can't understand why Kreacher hates him so much.)

So, it's only logical that, when your Mother made him play the piano because he just needed to fit into the high society, you wanted to play too.

Except that, when he gave up, you decided to keep playing because, just like you couldn't understand why Kreacher hates him, you can't understand why he didn't like the instrument.

When your fingers touch the keys, you feel like you can do anything.

And for a child, that's the best feeling in the world.

 **x**

The years passed and, before you noticed, he left for Hogwarts.

First, it was your cousins. When Bella was in one of her good days, all five of you used to play in the backyard, running and throwing dirt around. Your Mother and Aunt Druella used to scream at all of you, but then Bella and Sirius, being the inconsequent ones, stood up against them. It didn't do any good, but they still tried.

Then the three of them left, and it was just you and Sirius.

He was your best friend and you were his. All the mischief that he used to do, you're his partner in crime.

When he played quidditch, you sat in the backyard and watched him; when you played the piano, he sat in the sofa and listened to your music.

You could see that it was uncomfortable for him, because he just couldn't stay in one place for more than... well, he just couldn't.

Then, this one time, after you played for almost an hour, you asked him _why do you stay?_

He smiled at you and said, _because I like watching you doing things that you like_.

When he came back the first time, your Mother and Father were livid, because he was sorted into Gryffindor and befriended with that Potter kid.

He was always different from the rest of you. Since birth, your parents taught you both that you had to praise the Dark Lord and hate the muggleborns, because they were scum, when compared to you.

But he didn't believe that and tried to be reason with your parents. In vain, since you're listening all the shouting and screaming.

You played the piano that night and as he sat there, he just stared at you, like he was facing a difficult decision.

That night, you played like you've never played before. For some reason, you felt that that was the only thing keeping him there.

After you finished, you realized that you've never been more right in your entire life.

 **X**

The last time he came home, he had a horrible discussion with your parents and informed them that he was never coming back. That he was moving in with the Potters.

 _If you leave_ , your Mother whispered to him, and you could fell the hatred and the hurt in her voice _, you're not allowed to come back, never again._

He went to his room and bagged all of his things.

(You stayed at the door and noticed that there weren't many things for him to pack and you wondered if this was his plan all along.)

You called him from the doorway and he looked at you, mirroring the look in your Mother's eyes.

 _Do you want to listen to the new music that I've learned?_

He smiled a little at you. _Of course._

He sat in the same spot – his spot – and as you started the song that you know it was his favorite, you played like you've never played before.

You tried to argue with him, once. Apparently, that's the only thing that you're still capable to do. You saw him out and about with his friends, doing things that you imagined doing with him when you first went to Hogwarts.

You had different friends, different beliefs, but you still hoped that one day, you'd be able to be the brothers that you once were. That he would still see you as his best friend, his partner, his _brother_.

(Little did you know that he still though of you that way).

He said that he was trying to protect you; that he didn't want you to be like Bella, or Cissa. That you could be just like him and Andromeda.

But you couldn't. After he started to change, your parents were paying more attention to you, since their first-born was being such a disgrace to the Black family.

You were in the middle of the song and you looked at him. His body was there but his mind was elsewhere. You could see it in his eyes.

After you finished, he stood up. With his hands in his pockets, he stared at you for a full minute. Then, in an impulse, he crossed the room and, as you stood up, hugged you really tight.

You hugged him too because even though you know that he loves you, affection is not a common thing between you two.

Staring into his eyes you asked, _Is there any chance for you to stay?_

He took a really deep breath.

 _No._

And he left.

 **X**

After that, you realized that the music was the only thing keeping you sane.

The War was happening, people were dying and it was your responsibility, as the only child of the Black household, to ensure that things went accordingly to the Dark Lord plans.

Your parents were crazy as ever, Cissa married the Malfoy, Bella was married with the Lestrange oldest and Andromeda was burned from the tapestry, just like Sirius.

 _Sirius_.

You feel the tears forming in your eyes. You hate him and, at the same time, love him. He left you with all this responsibility when he was supposed to be the one dealing with it.

You almost missed a beat in the song that you're playing.

You stared at the corner where he used to sit and pressed your fingers in the piano keys even tighter.

Your mother entered the room and, as she put his hand over your shoulder, she says that you can enlighten any room with your music. _I've never been more proud of my only son, Regulus._

After she left, you tore the parchment in half because if Sirius was here, would she still be proud of you?

 **X**

Music is like air to you and, as you think about everything that you've been through, you can't help but associate it with some melody that you played.

Now, as you stare at him for the last time, you can feel the music coming to an end.

(Later, as you stop to think about it, you find it ironic that the last time you saw him, you were associating it with his favorite song).

He looked at you for a brief moment and, as your eyes encountered his, you felt your fingers moving, playing the last notes of the music.

You turned around before you could see him nodding at you.

You hummed the last part of his favorite song the entire ride to your house and wondered if he was humming it too.

* * *

 _Reviews are appreciated!_


End file.
